


are you shaken? (are you stirred?)

by jayflyaway (orphan_account)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Character Study, Derek is a sap, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Poetry, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 02:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7341799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jayflyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kisses Derek Malik Nurse put on paper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is, please just take it and enjoy. The title is from the first line of a poem called The Kiss by Robert Graves, because it fit in with the poetry I was writing to go along with this.

_The first time we kissed you left_

_Ashes in my mouth_

_I always knew you would burn going down_

_Just like strong alcohol or a hard truth_

His poetry friends call him Derek, his hockey friends call him Nursey. There's a distinction between them. Junior year, most of the team comes out to one of the open mics, sit and hear him speak a poem about fire and sunlight, while he pointedly doesn't look at where the team is sitting. Two or three of his poetry friends are smirking a little, glancing at a certain member of the hockey team and back at him. He's never been so thankful to be standing in dim lighting, with skin dark enough that his blushes are easily hidden. Derek Nurse wears his heart on his sleeve, and it is never more apparent then when he is writing. Anyone who has regularly heard him, who has edited his poetry with him, knows. 

At the end, everyone claps, and he bows, and walks off. Lana of the feathery blonde hair, as artfully disheveled as him, leans in with wine dark lips, her eyes flickering from him to the hockey team and back. "Do they know?"

Derek looks at her and laughs a little, because if he does, he can pretend that her words aren't a quiet punch. Lana was the first friend he made at open mics, and they hate and love each other in equal amounts. It's not unlike his relationship with Dex, but this is more because they have poetry styles that contrast, Lana's clean and stark and angry, Derek's soft and lyrical and loving. Lana wants some of Derek's whimsy, and Derek some of Lana's succinctness, but muses are difficult things. Derek's muse sits here and doesn't know a thing; Lana's muse is the world, is her anger, coiled and hateful. When he's too tired to filter his thoughts, he thinks Dex and Lana together would be an explosive combination.

Derek looks straight at her. "Hockey bros are oblivious at the best of times."

Lana shakes her head and tuts softly. "Derek, Derek."

Derek shrugs, pastes a soft smile on his face, sits with his back to the hockey team. "It's chill."

"Even frozen hearts feel," Lana replies, her eyes looking at something just over his shoulder. 

Derek's guess is that she's examining the hockey team. "Let it rest, Lana."

"Sorry, Derek," Lana says, her eyes still fixated behind him, her lips lifting into a shark's smile. He doesn't know what she's up to, and he's sure he doesn't want to, either.

_You are the warm and giving sun_

_And I embrace you with open arms_

_But the tighter my grasp_

_The deeper the scars you cut_

His hands are shoved into his pockets as he walks towards the Haus. He'd loitered a bit after the open mic, discussing performances with Lana, accepting praise from others. One or two people made references to a particular member of the hockey team, only to be viciously shut down by Lana's glare. He'd talked to the others, accepting their effusive praise, beyond grateful they'd shown up, even if they didn't necessarily understand. And then he waved them off, to go back to either the Haus or their dorms. Dex didn't say anything, just stood there watching him, and Derek is both grateful and disappointed. Some poems make him feel raw after speaking them, and this was one of them. It's hard to be chill Nursey when he reads a poem that drips with honesty, because Nursey is inherently dishonest. 

He looks up at the stars, glittering and bright in a mostly clear November sky. Tries not to start thinking weird existential questions. It's warm for November, a light sweater enough to ward off the chill as he walks back towards the Haus. He thinks, already drafting another poem dedicated to the same person. They weren't wrong when they said writers would make their lovers immortal, but whatever Dex is, he isn't  _that_. Dex isn't a fickle muse, but he's steady and warm, and Derek's poems are filled with the kind of softness Dex isn't, because Derek is soft, and Derek is good at romanticising. 

He's about a block from the Haus when he sees Dex, a backpack slung over his shoulder, walking in his direction. 

Dex's eyes flicker to him when they're close enough, and they both slow to stand facing each other. "Where are you going?" Nursey asks, curious. 

"We're having an all night study session. I have a test in the afternoon," Dex says, his voice quiet. 

Nursey pauses, rolls Dex's words around, and wonders. Bothering him before tests has generally led to yelling matches, and yet, here Dex is. He's still dressed in the clothes he was wearing to open mic, so he must have stopped at the Haus only to get his overnight bag. Dex came to see him even though he needed to study, and Nursey doesn't understand. And before he can stop himself, the words tumble out of his mouth, because Derek Nurse doesn't know how to leave well enough alone. 

"You didn't have to come, dude. It's chill," Nursey says, because Nursey doesn't know how not to needle Dex, and Dex hates when Nursey says chill.

Dex huffs a tired, annoyed sigh, and adjusts the strap of his backpack. "Of course I did. You're not very chill about poetry, Nursey."

Nursey's smile is a tiny bit lopsided, but it's dark enough that Dex can't tell. "Words are just words, Poindexter."

"Not according to your friend, Lana, the blonde one," Dex says. "Is she always that angry?"

Nursey remembers Lana's poem with a slight shake of his head. It was angry, it was violent, it was quintessential Lana. Half of it felt like a call out to him, a poem about words and muses that deconstructed poetry. "Lana's muse runs on anger."

"And what, yours runs on love?" Dex asks, a smile on his face. 

It's meant to be a chirp, but Nursey falters for just enough of a moment, and Dex notices, his smile fading abruptly. "I didn't know." Whatever Dex is, he isn't stupid. In their three years of knowing each other, he's learned to read Nursey remarkably well for someone he's constantly arguing with.

"You weren't meant to," Nursey replies, with a shrug. "Chill."

Dex is angry now, Nursey can see it in how his shoulders tense and his mouth purses, in how Dex steps closer so he's right in Nursey's face. "Lana was right," Dex spits at him, when he finally speaks. "You really do say 'chill' more when you're upset. What the fuck, Nurse, can't you just be honest and let yourself break down?"

Nursey is--Nursey is  _tired_ , and doesn't have the energy for this, and so when he speaks, it's soft and sad and plaintive. "Dex, please."

And Dex--Dex freezes, and looks at him, and Nursey feels stripped bare, because Dex is really seeing him for once. Nursey's bad at being vulnerable, but here he is, his heart in his voice, flooding out of him. Nursey wonders what Dex sees, looking at him in the weak light of a far off street lamp, Nursey's hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders bowed a little. Not in defeat, just in exhaustion. They're almost nose to nose, so if Dex is really looking, there isn't much he will miss. Derek's being honest because Dex wanted him to, and now he stands and waits for the fallout. 

Dex reaches some sort of conclusion, and sighs too, filled with resignation and residual anger. "You're an idiot."

One moment, they're just standing there, hanging on the cusp of something, and the next, Dex closes the space between them, one hand wrapping around Nursey's wrist, warm even through the fabric, and Nursey closes his eyes. Dex kisses just like he is, with the intent to bruise, angry and pulsing, but the longer they stand there, the more his lips soften, until they match Nursey's, soft and pliant. It's a little surprising, but he's starting to learn that he can't predict Dex very well at all. 

As Dex pulls away, Nursey opens his eyes. Dex's fingers unlatch from his wrist, and his eyes are warm with affection and a tiny bit of laughter as he considers Derek. "I have to go, but tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," Derek echoes, soft and a little stupid, his mind filled with questions that won't make it to his mouth. He may need to rethink his assessment of Dex, because it looks like Dex does know how to be soft.

_But that's wrong, isn't it?_

_Your kiss burns as it goes down_

_The same burn as a heart in love_

_I can't fault you for that_

_For I must taste the same._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lost my first draft for this and I am pissed about it, but this is still good. Different, but good.  
> Also this was written in three hours when I had something else to work on because I got inspired.


	2. Chapter 2

_Persephone ate the blood red seeds_

_But my temptation is lit up by shadow and gold_

_And if I could swallow it whole and press it inside me_

_I would_

Derek hates William J. Poindexter with all of his stupidly fond poet's heart. The redhead is sleeping in Nursey's bunk, his face relaxed, and in the hazy golden of their room in late afternoon, he looks beautiful, composed of shadows and light and freckles. He's twisted up the sheets all around him, clean cotton white against pale speckled gold. Derek sighs a little, runs a hand through Dex's hair, drops a kiss on his temple. His heart seized a little in his chest when he first saw Dex in his bed, and he remembers again how much he loves this stupid man. 

Dex stirs a little, still half-asleep, his mouth curving into a soft smile. "Hey, Derek," he mumbles, his eyes drifting just the slightest bit open.

"What if it weren't me, huh?" Derek asks, arguing just to be contrary, his voice too fond to be anything else. 

Dex's hand reaches out for Derek's wrist. "Just come here," he says, "How could it be anyone but you?" And that's all it takes for Derek's stupid heart to melt even as it beats like a drum.

"Am I allowed to ask why we're napping right now? In my bunk, too?" Derek asks, as he strips off his outerwear, until he, like Dex, is just wearing boxers. 

Dex moves over a little. "I was supposed to be working on math but I'm too tired."

"And I'm joining you because...?" Derek asks, more or less tripping into the bed, letting Dex wrap an arm around his waist.

"Because naps with me are better than whatever else you have to do?" Dex counters, his arm tightening around Derek, his face pushed into the small space where Derek's neck and shoulder meet. 

And there's nothing Derek can really say to that, so he hums a little, pushes back so he's even more plastered to Dex. It's not his intent to fall asleep, but he's warm and comfortable and Dex's breaths are even by his ear, as soothing as a lullaby.

_And if not_

_Then I would try my best to press myself_

_Into your every crevice_

_Into your very bones_

Derek wakes to a hand stroking his hair and a wall of warmth against his back. He shuffles around till he's facing Dex, who looks like a cat, half-asleep and content. The light's faded more, amber more than gold, their room mostly shadow, and he's sure they've slept at least two hours. Dex's eyelashes leave faint shadows under his eyes, bright and only somewhat alert.

"I bet you're proud of yourself," Derek whispers into the stillness. 

"You're here, so yeah," Dex replies, his eyes fixed on Derek's face, his smile lazy. Derek's heart flutters, because he still can't believe how far they've come, from spitting words at each other with the intent to hurt to Dex admitting that his days are better with Derek in them, in love and unafraid. 

He's so tempting and Derek is allowed to touch him, so he presses forward, an arm coming up to wrap around the back of Dex's neck. He pulls Dex closer, kisses the smile off of him, the both of them syrup-slow and sweet, stuck in the twilight space between asleep and awake. Kiss after kiss after kiss, Derek sinks deeper, his mind quiet for once, caught up in this. Caught up in the faint smell of soap and the heat building into him, because sometimes he loves Dex so much it makes him sick. 

When they pull away, they stay breathing each other's air. Dex's eyes are blown wide, his lips red and slightly swollen, and Derek feels a warm flash of pride because he's the reason Dex is like this. "I love you like the ocean loves the moon."

"You're an incredible sap," Dex says, hiding his smile in the skin of Derek's shoulder. 

"You bring out the best of me," Derek continues, watching Dex flush an enticing red, starting at his ears and spreading quite a bit farther down. He knows this from experience, even though he can't see it all right now. "I--"

And then he's cut off by Dex's lips on his, but he doesn't mind, not really. And even though he'll never admit it to Dex, sometimes he says things like this just so Dex will kiss him. His love for Dex is so strong it scares him, because he's never been much of a possessive person. And then Dex happened, and Derek would _happily_ keep him forever. Derek kisses harder now, like he has a point to prove. He doesn't, but it doesn't hurt to reaffirm his feelings through touch as well, and Dex still reads him easily. For two people who still spend a lot of time arguing with each other, tempered now by fondness, they know each other far too well.

_On my lips I'll carry my heart_

_And I will give it to you to keep_

_Kiss by kiss by kiss_

_Until I forget that I ever owned it_

As the two of them climb out of bed, Derek watches Dex, and thinks _mine_. He looks at this boy with his warm brown eyes and fiery hair and wonders what it would be like to lose him, and he can't. Dex is too firmly a part of him for Derek to think about a life without Dex in it. 

Dex stands and faces Derek, his smile just as fond and adoring, and Derek loses his previous train of thought. He's not losing Dex anytime soon, and he will fight tooth and nail to make sure it stays that way. Derek leans in and drops a bruising kiss on Dex, a private affirmation to himself.

_I will consume you, blood red_

_And let you live on, warm_

_In the place where my heart should be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask me, I don't know. Soft hockey bros ftw I guess?  
> Also you can find me on tumblr at jay-fly-away.tumblr.com if you're so inclined and suggest prompts because I would love to <3  
> (I only ever minimally edit this and don't have a beta, so if you see any glaring errors please tell me)


	3. Chapter 3

_to kiss you is to tell you a truth:_

_that you reach under all my invisible armour_

_and find the glitter of the things I shroud_

_all that I want to hide from the world at large_

_there is too much in me that is too weak to withstand_

_being out in the open for everyone to dissect_

The thing is, Derek doesn't understand Dex. Dex is so different from him, has been shaped by a completely different set of circumstances. Dex grew up with family, working with his hands, earning his way. Derek...Derek grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, going to private schools, living in the city. He never needed to work, and he's an only child who doesn't really know how to live with people. Derek learned to internalise his feelings, and Dex lets people know how he feels about everything. He's never asked Dex, but Derek's almost positive that Dex used to fight in high school. Maybe even middle school, he doesn't know. 

And that's the crux of the matter, isn't it? Derek doesn't _know_ Dex, not yet. He's starting to see it, the way they're both angry, even if they express it differently. Derek defends himself with 'chill' and Dex defends himself with his fiery temper, opposite reactions to the same things. He's starting to unpack the complexities of Dex, but in the meanwhile, he's so _lost_. He's still reconciling the soft Dex that kissed him at night and looked at him with so much affection in his eyes with the Dex that's capable of snapping about every little thing just to start a fight. He knows how much Chowder worries about them, D-men that constantly fight each other off the ice. 

He doesn't know how to treat Dex yet. He knows he doesn't want to fuck this up, because Derek cares, Derek cares _too much_ , but he doesn't know what to do, and he wants to call one of his moms, but he can't rely on them forever. This is something for him alone to figure out, and he will do it, no matter how long it takes. Some things are worth the wait, after all.

_to kiss you is to tell you the truth:_

_that you get to me_

_that you are not the world at large_

_for all that I wish you were_

_just another face in the crowd_

_you are a something else and_

_I have never had one of those before_

They fall together. It _is_ rough in the beginning, as new relationships almost always are. There are moments where they snap at each other, where their good intentions come out wrong, where they misstep and misspeak and make so many mistakes. But there is a spark of what they could be, so they work at it, and sooner than he'd have thought, they're in a functional relationship. They still argue, but it's tempered with open fondness, obvious to no one but themselves. For all that Chowder still vibrates with anxiousness when they snipe at each other, it's so much better than what they were, even if outwardly, nothing really seems to have changed.

The fundamentals still apply, after all. Derek is still a privileged kid from New York, and Dex is still a redhead with the ability to argue about anything. They're still d-men who play fucking good hockey with each other and work like a dream on the ice, even if they're opposing each other off-ice. Derek is still quiet when he's angry, and Dex still lashes out, so of course they fight. And maybe their fuck-yous are a little more fuck-me, but they're both pretty flexible nowadays.

They'll study together, crowded together on the same side of a table in the library, shoulders brushing and calves pressed together. Sometimes when they sit together on the bus, it'll be one of them leaning against the other, and napping half on top of each other on their way back. It's small touches that weren't there before, and stupid conversations late at night, and texting each other memes and anecdotes from their days, even if they're going to see each other in a few hours. It's good.

But Derek is still scared that he's going to fuck this all up, and so he's still careful around Dex. And he knows Dex can tell that he's holding back, but Dex doesn't call him out on it. It's a little surprising, that Dex can be patient like this, but then Derek remembers--Dex is a man that works with his hands, who knows how to put things together. It is Dex who started putting this thing that they are together, and it will be Derek who will finish slotting in the pieces. It has to be. 

_to kiss you is a truth:_

_that you can live in my spaces between_

_that you yourself are a truth about me_

_a weakness to hide in my darkest corners_

_and to show on my largest pedestal_

_a contradiction in terms_

_you are the shine in the cracks of my walls_

The first time Derek kisses Dex isn't really a special moment. It is them standing outside the library, Derek getting ready to go to class, Dex getting ready to go to the computer lab to work on some online quiz. And the thing is--it's so much easier than Derek expects it to be. It's a hand cupping Dex's cheek and cool, slightly chapped lips meeting each other. It is Derek, admitting the truth: that with Dex, he is vulnerable. Derek will meet Dex halfway every time, will let Dex see the parts of him he keeps hidden from everyone else if Dex asks for them. And more often than not, he will give these things to Dex before Dex even asks, the little things that make him the way he is.  

When they part, Dex's cheeks are red--from the cold or from the kiss, Derek doesn't know, but he's willing to bet it's a combination of both. And they both smile at each other, Dex reserved but fond, Derek practically beaming. 

"Go, you have class," Dex murmurs, soft.

Derek's hand is still framing the side of Dex's face. "I know."

He looks at this boy that he's been quietly handing pieces of his heart to, who's been reading him since the beginning, and wonders how he was ever scared of this. Before it's quite a conscious thought, he leans in again, kisses Dex again, chasing that wonderful, terrifying feeling of being open. 

Dex is smiling at him indulgently, his hands tucked into his pockets. "You have class."

"I can skip it," Derek says offhandedly. He's not going to skip it, of course not, but it's worth saying. 

"I'll still be here," Dex replies, his eyes slightly crinkled. It's a good look on him. "Go."

Derek kisses him one more time. "I'll see you at the caf after class?"

"Yeah," Dex says, ducking his head a little. "Bye, Nurse."

_to kiss you is the truth:_

_you are everything I am afraid of_

_because with you it is so hard_

_for me to be anything but terrifyingly open_

_and yet, you, who I expected to batter the gates_

_till I give everything up_

_you unravel me and it is--_

_overwhelming._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally update this and it's at 2:30 in the morning, of fucking course. This was written in two hours, and minimally edited, like the two chapters before this. This was...god, it was difficult to write. I'm not perfectly happy with it, but I don't think I can do anything more with it now.  
> This is definitely being written non-linearly, since I can't control my inspiration. Also bc I like the juxtaposition of the different points of their relationship. Also yes, there is a really stupid innuendo in here that I don't regret making at all. I actually sat and laughed hysterically for like...five minutes bc it was completely unintentional and I'm stupid at early morning and yet. Here we are.   
> Why do I keep writing introspective fics? I need to write something dumb and less heavy, and yet, all you get from me is introspective character studies. I need new ideas for lighter fics.   
> Please tell me if you find any glaring errors <3


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